The speaker, an old count in gray robes and a long white beard, took a deep breath and announced the results.
"The votes have been counted, and I now announce the result! Count Kingsley: 24 votes. Count Fitzallen: 26 votes! As the presiding officer, I declare the process fair and hereby forward this resolution to His Majesty for signature!"
"What?" Count Kingsley couldn't contain himself.
Count Fitzallen stepped forward with a kind smile and said, "Big brother, in the end, it was my destiny to become king. Let's put away all past enmities and support our kingdom together!"
"You…" Count Kingsley pointed his finger, wanting to say something but unable to find an excuse.
Suddenly, a loud voice broke through the murmuring crowd. "What about my vote?" Heads turned toward the speaker, a man in luxurious armor carrying a beautiful sword.
Count Fitzallen looked over, startled. "Who are you?"
Count Kingsley was equally shocked. A Silver Knight was supposed to protect them and prevent any unauthorized entry. Could this man have somehow entered without the knight noticing? Or had the young mage, Leo, defeated the Silver Knight so swiftly? As a wise man, he kept quiet, lowering his head slightly, and didn't reveal Leo's identity as a powerful mage capable of putting an entire city to sleep.
"I am a noble of this kingdom, Leo Fitzroy!" Leo declared in a calm voice.
"Well, Baron Fitzroy," replied Count Fitzallen with a harsh expression, "you are not a member of the House of Lords. To be elected as a temporary member, you must be voted in by your peers."
"Trust me, I am a member of this House; in fact, I am the only member," Leo said, stepping closer.
"Lord Speaker, aren't you responsible for the House's security? How could you allow such an intrusion on this important occasion?" Count Fitzallen demanded, glaring at the Speaker. Unknown to Fitzallen, the Speaker had already summoned security when Leo appeared. Yet, there was no response—no security at all. They were all unconscious.
"Count Fitzallen, take it easy! Let us not offend our guest," the Speaker said, attempting to defuse the tension. He had no idea what had happened to the guards, many of whom were knights, but he knew one thing: avoiding conflict with this person was best.
"Wait a minute! Aren't you responsible for security? How can you be so incompetent? He doesn't have permission to attend this meeting! Where are the guards?" Count Fitzallen's anger boiled over as he confronted the Speaker.
Leo's voice rang out with a cold authority, "Everyone, from this moment, nobody is allowed to leave. If you try, you will be killed. Please—I dislike needless slaughter, so do not test me."
"What did you say? How can you prevent us from leaving? Who do you think you are?" Duke Ashenford, a seasoned veteran, remained cautious but couldn't hide his disdain for Leo's arrogance.
Leo ignored the duke and continued in a calm voice, "Now, everyone—quickly vote and elect Edith as the first female monarch of this kingdom."
"What?" Count Fitzallen's eyes widened, and then he burst into laughter. Others joined him, the room filled with incredulous laughter.
"You have five minutes to vote verbally," Leo said expressionlessly. "In five minutes, anyone who refuses to vote will lose a limb."
"Hey, where are the guards? Throw this insane man in prison!" shouted one of Count Fitzallen's supporters.
"I vote for Edith as our next monarch!" Count Kingsley declared loudly and clearly.
"You… have you gone insane?" Count Fitzallen asked in disbelief, wondering if losing the position of crown prince had driven his big brother mad.
Duke Ironbough, just as shocked, asked, "Count, you?"
Count Kingsley quickly whispered something to the Duke, who, after a moment's thought, nodded in agreement. "I, too, vote for Queen Edith as our next monarch!" he announced just as loudly.
A hush fell over the House of Lords. No one else dared to speak or laugh. Gradually, the 24 nobles who had backed Count Kingsley all cast their votes for Edith.
"You're all insane! Lord Speaker, what happened to the guards?" Count Fitzallen shouted.
"My lord, there are no guards!" the Speaker finally admitted, understanding that the situation had spiraled beyond control.
Count Kingsley nodded, relief showing on his face. He realized he had made the right decision. He understood that if Leo had managed to enter unnoticed by the Silver Knight, something was dreadfully wrong. The absence of both the Silver Knight and the resident guards confirmed his suspicions—they must all have been subdued. Kingsley didn't want to imagine the power required to incapacitate a Silver Knight, but he understood one thing clearly: compliance with Leo was the safest path forward.
"But how? Where did all those knights go?" Count Fitzallen muttered in confusion.
"I have no idea! Perhaps it's a conspiracy from the Icereach Kingdom!" suggested the Speaker.
Just then, a voice rang out: "Five minutes are up."
Count Fitzallen suddenly sensed something was wrong. Looking at his left shoulder, he stared in shock, his mind struggling to comprehend.
"Where is my left arm?" he thought, then his eyes widened as the realization hit him. He screamed, "AAAAAAHHHH!"
It wasn't just Count Fitzallen who suffered; all who hadn't voted screamed in agony as they lost body parts. Some lost fingers, others an entire limb.
"You have five more minutes to vote for Edith, or you will lose another limb!" Leo announced in an amplified voice, using one of his many abilities. Even the nobles who remained unharmed felt a chill; the brutal display had shaken them.
A few of the luckier nobles, who had only lost fingers, attempted to run, but they exploded into a mist of blood before they could take even one step. Edith, the future queen, who had survived a harsh life and witnessed countless brutal deaths, turned pale at the sight of such carnage.
"Damn it!" Count Fitzallen collapsed, struggling to stem the bleeding. No one came to help him.
"I vote for Queen Edith as the next queen! Please, save me!" he shouted, feeling lightheaded as he fought to remain conscious, knowing that fainting could mean death.
"You don't deserve saving," Leo responded ruthlessly, his voice devoid of emotion. To him, none of the nobles in the room were innocent; he believed that the fewer of them left alive, the better. He had read the dark histories of each one in the files prepared by Caelan. Count Fitzallen, though seemingly respectable, had a vile past, with twisted predilections involving children.
Leo was no knight in shining armor seeking justice, but he saw no reason to save someone as despicable as Fitzallen.
The Count's vision blurred, and he slumped to the side, passing out with his eyes open. His left arm continued to bleed, though the flow gradually slowed and eventually stopped.
"I vote for Queen Edith as monarch!" declared another noble who had lost an eye.
"I vote for Queen Edith as the next monarch!" said another, managing to stem the bleeding from his severed hand.
One by one, every noble in the room voted for Edith as the next monarch.
"Good! Lord Speaker, officiate the vote at once; I will deliver it to the king for signature myself," Leo commanded, pointing to the Speaker.
The Speaker cleared his throat and, even in such a terrifying moment, retained his professional tone. "The votes have been counted, and I now announce the result: Queen Edith Hawke, 36 votes. As presiding officer, I declare the process fair and hereby appoint Baron Fitzroy as the officer to seek His Majesty's signature." The Speaker was fortunate; not being eligible to vote, he had not lost any limbs.
"Thank you for your votes, everyone!" Leo smiled, leaving the House of Lords.
...
Not far from the House of Lords, King Ironheart awaited the results to sign the proclamation. By long-standing convention, the king was prohibited from entering the House of Lords during such a crucial vote. Otherwise, he would have enjoyed witnessing the proceedings himself.
"It should be Victor," the king mused, feeling assured. His son Victor was, without a doubt, the brightest of his children and was bound to succeed in winning the vote. "He will make a fine king," King Alexander thought, feeling pleased.
As he pictured the future, the door burst open, and a man in ornate armor carrying a beautiful sword entered.
"Who are you? How dare you enter without knocking? Where are the knights on duty?" The king's voice was furious, though his hand had already found the hilt of the sword hidden beneath the table. As king, he was always guarded by two knights. If someone had breached this far, it meant either the knights were dead, or they had betrayed him and allowed the intruder access.
"Could this be an assassin sent by Icereach?" he thought. Relations with the kingdom of Icereach had recently soured, so he wouldn't be surprised. But he looked the man over and found it hard to believe any assassin would wear such elaborate armor. His eyes fell on a young woman standing behind the armored figure, and his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Here, sign this," Leo ordered, placing a letter on the table.
"What is it?" the king asked, pretending to remain enraged while secretly preparing to strike with his hidden sword. Despite his age, his reflexes remained sharp.
"The House of Lords has voted to appoint Queen Edith as the next monarch! Sign it; you have ten seconds, or you lose a limb!" Leo's voice dripped with impatience.
"Who?" Alexander asked, genuinely confused. He had never heard of anyone named Edith.
"Time's up! Cut off his left foot," Leo ordered.
Sir Garren, the imposing knight beside Leo, didn't even touch his sword. A mere gesture, and the king's left leg was severed. Alexander screamed in agony, collapsing to the ground.
"Five more seconds—sign, or lose another limb!" Leo demanded, reveling in the absolute power he wielded. The ability to command a king like this filled him with an intoxicating sense of dominance. He wondered fleetingly if he was, perhaps, a sick psychopath, but quickly dismissed the thought. Even if he were, with Sir Garren by his side, no one could challenge him.
"I'll sign it! Just stop—please!" the king cried, desperately trying to stem the bleeding. Leo handed him the letter.
The king's hands were slick with blood, staining the paper as he took up the pen to sign, but Leo didn't care.
"Alright, now, hand me your crown," Leo demanded.
The king, defeated and terrified, no longer dared to resist. He hadn't even noticed when or how his leg had been severed, and he understood that one wrong word could mean his death. With a resigned sigh, he removed the crown from his head, revealing his bald scalp. "Here, take it."
Leo took the crown, wiped the bloodstains from its surface, and turned to Edith.
"From this moment, you are the first queen of this land," Leo declared, turning to Edith with a smile. He placed the crown in her hands. "Here, take the crown and place it on your head."
"Leo, I—I don't know what to say!" Edith stammered, too shocked to grasp the enormity of what had just happened.
Seeing her hesitation, Leo gently took the crown and placed it atop her head himself. "I'll stay here with you for a few days to ensure no one tries anything foolish," he said with a reassuring smile.
Leo looked at Edith thoughtfully. She was certainly a beauty—perhaps not the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, but she easily ranked in the top 15. For someone like him, who had known hundreds of women over the years, that was an impressive feat.